Harriet Sandilands: Flash Fiction
Three Dreams - Reading Comprehension
Reading
The little sore had reopened and it was bleeding. Polly and Marcus were getting married again and Marcus asked me to be his best man. He insisted I use a very specific joke in my speech and, truth be told, I was grateful for the input because I was struggling for ideas. Firstly, I didn’t know much about Marcus except what he made sure everyone knew about him, which was that he was really into “street art”. Secondly, I wasn’t sure I liked him that much. The only thing I had come up with for the speech was a second-hand anecdote from Polly about their first date which featured a park in which they had watched pigeons chasing each other, laughing about how the male pigeons were always charging after the female pigeons and trying to jump them when they least expected it. All this to say that I was grateful for the input about the joke but I was still somewhat mystified that Marcus had asked me to be his best man in the first place.
My grandmother appeared in the dream and asked me earnestly if I would officiate the wedding between her and my grandfather who had died with baby me asleep on his chest. There was no indication that this was a “vow renewal” or anything like that. The sense of time was clearly fluid in this dream. I wondered: if they had been alive all of this time, where had they been hiding? Mostly, I could not believe they had chosen me. I finally felt what it must feel like to be someone’s favourite.
This time, I was the one getting married and everyone was rushing around getting things in order. There were flowers, wine glasses, and place names to organise. I wasn’t properly dressed but I assumed everything would come together in time. Then I found myself on a narrowboat, in a little room with a deep green painted wall, a houseplant and a comfy looking chair in a soft floral pattern by a window. I thought to myself that I could just curl up in that chair and take a little nap. So I did. I could hear the water lapping against the side of the boat. The frantic preparations seemed very far away. I wondered if I could just stay here on my own forever.
Questions
What was the “little sore” and why had it been reopened?
What does the plant inside the room inside the narrowboat represent?
Imagine the character of Marcus as an archetype; what is his purpose in the writer’s psyche?
What is inferred by the author’s reference to “street art”?
What unexpressed conflict or desire underpins these three pieces?
Discuss the author’s decision not to specify the joke in the first piece.
Extension Activites
*Write a fourth dream which would in some way complete this series.
*Marry yourself
Origami in Five Steps
1.
You already know that origami always starts with a square, and that it’s just one piece of paper. When he gives you the tour of his small, smokey studio, it’s like moving around an exotic zoo. He says you can pick any one you like. You choose the plain white goose—something pleasingly rounded about its beak, the simple pleat of the tail feather. Plus he had said that it was his favourite, so you favoured it too—on his behalf—over the peacock, the grizzly bear, the impressive cicada.
2.
To get very passionate about origami, you have probably recently undergone some misfortune. You find something predictably challenging in the precision of the folding and the difficulty in executing the carefully laid out instructions. Perhaps you broke an ankle, lost your job or—worse—a loved one. Some people turn to ceramics, some to gardening, some turn to origami.
3.
You become more and more attuned to the texture of things, particularly things made of paper. A newspaper does not at all resemble the envelope a water bill is delivered in. And neither of these has anything at all to do with wrapping paper or baking parchment. You start running your finger over things, assessing the weight, the pliability, the cleanness of the potential fold. You find yourself trimming down endless shopping receipts into perfect squares.
4.
It turns out that the goose he made looks rather drab when you get it home. You can’t remember why you chose it at all. You remember it was his favourite but that fact became irrelevant when it was taken away from him and from all the other ones you might have compared it with. It turned out that it wasn’t the origami goose you wanted at all. It was him.
5.
You start fantasising about folding him into something new, like a wish scribbled out on January 1st and left to float up the chimney on a chug of smoke. On second thoughts—no—you could keep him in your wallet, you think. One or two folds would do. By then, no-one would even know it was him.
Harriet Sandilands is a writer and art therapist living in Montserrat, Spain. She has been published in various journals, including The Closed Eye Open, Porridge, Litro, The Writing Disorder and Kitchen Table Quarterly. She will be featured in the 2026 National Flash Fiction anthology and, in 2025, was a finalist at The Poets Corner for her ekphrastic piece "Accidental Prayer". Her CNF essay "L'Entente Cordiale" was put forward for a Pushcart Prize. In 2023, her chapbook Amiss was published by Palabrosa and she was also the featured poet for International Poetry Day in Manresa reading a series of postcard poems. Harriet released her first book Pepita: a love story last year to celebrate her friendship with an elderly Catalan lady. She loves dogs, cold water swimming and enjoys both a nice cup of tea and good strong coffee.